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From 18-22, I spent four years working at McDonald’s. I worked a mix of part- and full-time over these years, always failing to find a “better” job. I never advanced up the rungs, never was a manager, never achieved anything of significance in my time there.
Basically, I was the absolute stereotype of a deadbeat McDonald’s worker. Lazy, stupid, with no initiative.
Over the years, I saw this stereotype play out in a number of ways. The faces of my parents friends falling when I told them what I did. The snide remarks, “Do you still work at McDonald’s?” or “I could never work at a place like that.” Encouragement from my friends, “Just don’t show up to work today!” (Because it’s not a real job.)
And it played out in my own mind. I was a terrible worker — too slow, clumsy and resentful of my circumstances. I quietly decided that I was too good for McDonald’s. I constantly justified myself, “It’s suuuuuch a shit job! But I need money hahaha.” I was a bookish good student who enjoyed intellectual conversation. I wasn’t meant for this useless physical labor.
I didn’t improve. And what’s more I didn’t want to improve. Why should I try to be good at something that was beneath me?
But after a few years, my attitude started to change.
I started to be proud of my job.
